Steely Hearts and Bladed Glory
by A Silver Cloud's Lullaby
Summary: Clove wanted to rip out Glimmer's heart. If she couldn't have Cato's, she'd gladly take Glimmer's on a silver platter. Preferable with her knife lodged into it. Clato.


**My first attempt at a Clato vignette/drabble/oneshot.**

**I have never read nor written anything Clato, so any similarities to other stories are completely coincidental. I was merely intrigued by this ship after making a few "comic strips" on my tumblr account. So I decided to take a break from my usual Hayffie fics and write a Clato. :)**

**Hope you like it!**

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_Title: Steely Hearts and Bladed Glory  
Summary: Clove wanted to rip out Glimmer's heart. If she couldn't have Cato's, she'd gladly take Glimmer's on a silver platter. Preferable with her knife lodged into it.  
Rating: K+  
Pairings: Clato. Mentions of Glato.  
Disclaimer: I don't own Cato, Clove, Glimmer, or anything else related to the Hunger Games. That all belongs to the lovely Suzanne Collins!_

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They couldn't let anyone know they were in love. It would show weakness, and that would lose sponsors. They'd never forgive the other if they didn't give everything they had into the Games. They had to bring pride to their District—they had to bring pride to each other. Even if only one of them came out. They'd make each other proud doing it.

So they kept away from each other. They'd give the other subtle hints. Casual, deadly conversation in lines to the different training sections. Small smiles when no one was looking. An easy brush of the hand, the shoulders as they walked by each other.

Sometimes they slipped. Once in a while they would forget they weren't supposed to know each other's favorite things. Like the way Clove would automatically pass Cato her glass of orange juice because she was allergic. Or the way Cato would automatically pass her the five-inch knives instead of the more portable three-inch. And of course, no one could miss the way they spent the night in one of the others' rooms (but they'd never dream of giving up that, especially when they only had limited time left).

When Clove overheard that redheaded girl from District Five mumble, "Stupid lovebirds" after Cato fought another boy for the knife—Clove's knife—that he supposedly stole, she subtly let it slip to Cato when they were at lunch. After that, he purposefully made passes at Glimmer (that stupid, blonde whore) to distract from their secret romance. It was one thing to endanger the love of your life; it was another to endanger your competition. (Cato would never view Clove as competition. He'd 'accidentally' lose a fight to another Tribute if they made it to the final three.) So Cato played Casanova with Glimmer.

That didn't mean it didn't bother Clove. She saw the way that beautiful wench flirted with Cato. There was nothing but lust behind those green (oh, how well Clove was aquainted with the color green these days) eyes. Glimmer didn't appreciate what was underneath Cato's lethal surface. All she wanted was a ticket to the alliance. Clove wanted to dig her knife deep into Glimmer's heart every time she saw Cato seductively curl his lips, let his eyes sweep over Glimmer's curves. After all, Clove's own heart was breaking. Why not let Glimmer share the pain?

Clove confronted Cato about it two nights before they would show off to the Gamemakers. She refused to come to his room, and when he asked why, she spat her reasons. At first, Cato was offended that Clove would doubt the feelings he held for her. He was doing this for _her_. But then, he knew Clove more than anyone. He knew that no one back home thought she could win these Games. He knew she was already scared about failing her District. How would she feel if she believed she was failing Cato as a girlfriend, albeit a forbidden girlfriend?

He assured her over and over that he felt nothing for Glimmer. He promised he was using her as strategy. Clove would always be his number one. They were in this together. She was Knives, and he was Swords. They were derivatives of the same being. Both deadly, but both beautiful. Hardened steal, but necessary to the other to sharpen the edge. Together they would cut down anyone who stood in their way. And that included "the little slut," as Clove liked to call her.

On the last day of training, Clove tried to remember what Cato said. She tried not to grit her teeth when Glimmer sensuously bent down to pick up her bow and arrow (not that she could use it well), and Cato made an show on appreciating her backside.

But when Clove lifted her knife to aim at a dummy, she caught Cato's reflection in the blade. He gave her a wink and a pointed look to her own backside, letting her know he appreciated hers more. Normally, Clove would deck anyone who looked at her in such a base, offending way. But it was Cato, and he wasn't doing it to be lecherous (well, he partly was, but it wasn't his main objective). He was giving her that small reassurance that he would choose his Four-Leafed Clover before this shiny bauble any day.

Clove smirked and gave the knife a little spin in her fingers to show she got the message. She believed him.

That didn't mean she kept herself from envisioning Glimmer in the dummy's face as she threw her knife.

Right in the heart. Perfect.

Because Cato's belonged to her.

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**So what did you think? I'd love to hear your thoughts!**

**Thanks for reading! :)  
-Lullaby-**


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